


Mute

by Katucopia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, F/M, Good Draco Malfoy, Minor Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, POV Draco Malfoy, Pining Draco Malfoy, Supportive Ron Weasley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:28:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29552139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katucopia/pseuds/Katucopia
Summary: Hermione is regressing. Instead of Azkaban, Draco is informed it's his responsibility to fix her.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First fanfic ever, just trying to write what I want to see, can't promise if it'll be any good, no warnings for this chapter, idk what else to add? Characters don't belong to me, yada yada?

Malfoy,

Ron, McGonagall, and myself will be coming to see you tomorrow. This is not to ask your permission, this is a warning. 

Potter.

The note was brief and frankly a lot more abrasive than I thought Potter would ever be. I had been being held in cells in the stomach of the Ministry of Magic after my trial. Potter had testified, and apparently Granger had submitted a letter, which I wasn’t permitted to read. In fact, based on all the newspapers I’d managed to grab a hold of it didn’t look like Granger has been seen by anyone since that day at Hogwarts. 

I thought a swot like her would be minister of magic by now but that role had gone to Shacklebolt. I sat against the concrete walls and wondered just what Potter was up to. Why come to see me in my cell with Weasley and McGonagall of all people. Were they going to hand deliver me to the dementors? I wasn’t present when my verdict was read, none of the papers I’d been able to steal had reported on it, so I wasn’t sure what to think. 

The note arrived last night. I barely slept, which was perfectly fine by me. Every time I closed my eyes I saw her face and I’d give anything to avoid seeing that again. I’d even risk insanity. I figured spending the rest of my existence in St. Mungos wouldn’t be too terrible. Better than Azkaban. At least there I’d be fed. 

I stared at the bars of my cell and counted. I had no idea what time it was and was more curious than anxious about what Potter had to say. I wonder if McGonagall would even be able to look at me. As for Weasley. Why waste the energy wondering why he’d come with them. He’ll follow Potter anywhere and I’m sure this is no different. The absence of Granger from their “golden” trio was irking me. She had answered no questions from press, hasn’t even been photographed. The last time I saw her she was covered in dirt, sweat, blood. Her hair was more of a mess than usual. She cried. I’d seen photos of Potter and Weasley at least to replace the last time I saw them in person. I’d seen them cleaned up and smiling, but no granger? It was like she was erased from everything.

I stared at the floor frowning when I heard the door creak. I guess the time is now. Three sets of footsteps strolled down the corridor leading to my cell. I stayed seated. I don’t care what they’re coming for, if I can only control myself I won’t look at the pricks.

“Malfoy” Potter cleared his throat, obviously expecting some sort of greeting.

“Potter. Curious to hear from you…here to take me to Azkaban?”

Weasley snorted and out of the corner of my eye I saw McGonagall’s feet shift, this caused me to look up. Weasley was already red in the face, Potter unreadable, and McGonagall seemed… apprehensive? Nervous? No that was ridiculous she wouldn’t be-

“Malfoy you’re going back to Hogwarts for eighth year as head boy”

I stared blankly at Potter. 

“Head boy” I repeated dumbly “Why? So everyone there can beat up a known death eater? What’s the catch”

“Harry this is a waste of time lets just go” Weasley mumbled

“Ok I’m just going to say it.” Potter started. This conversation was growing old.

“Hermione is going back as head girl”

“Then you don’t need a head boy. Granger will handle it just fine on her own”

“Malfoy shut up and just listen- She’s.. she’s not right. Ron and I… Everyone has tried to get through to her. She’s barely eating and she’s stopped speaking. Her mind healer thinks because you were there in the room with her when her trauma occurred… maybe the trauma bond will at least push her to open up more”

“So you’re sending me back to Hogwarts to what? Babysit Granger? Heal her? That doesn’t sound like a great plan from a mind healer. Sure they’re even qualified?”

“It’s a last resort option. Believe me, no one wants you anywhere near her” Weasley added.

I looked at McGonagall waiting for her opinion and she just sighed. 

“You’re going whether you want to or not. This was the agreement I made with the court. You heal Hermione or I will deliver you to Azkaban myself Malfoy I swear it. If you don’t try and let her fail… You’ll arrive there in pieces. Your father won’t even recognize you.” Potter glared at me. Him and Ron walked away but McGonagall stayed behind.

“Mr. Malfoy, I’m sure you’re aware of how important Miss Granger is to those boys. She’s important to more than just them in our world. I’ve made arrangements for new head quarters, you’ll both have individual passwords through two separate portraits. You’ll share a bathroom and a common room. You will make sure Miss Granger eats, you will make sure she turns in her assignments, you will be responsible for her. Think of it as penance. Reparations for what was done to her at the hands of your blood. Tomorrow, we will travel to Hogwarts via side-along. Your things have been moved there already. I hope for your sake you’re successful in eliciting some sort of reaction out of her”

With that they were all gone. His musings about Granger felt tainted now that he had to essentially babysit her. Surely this was some sick sort of joke. There’s no way Saint fucking Potter would be coming to him for help with her. There’s no way she’s as bad as they’re saying. Granger probably arranged the whole thing so she can gloat about how recovered she is. How nightmares don’t haunt her anymore. She would probably skip around me and point and laugh at how sunken my skin looks. Comment on the weight I’ve lost due to being detained. Laugh at the scars Potter had left on me. Maybe she’d hex me on sight and just ignore me. I could work with that. We’ll just ignore each other and I’ll watch her from afar so I can say im doing what they’re demanding I do. I fucked up their golden girl and now its my responsibility to fix her or I get sent to jail. What a fucking joke. They were having a laugh. That’s all this was. Tomorrow I would be going to Azkaban, this was just a hallucination. I’m certain of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I like this chapter a lot more than the first one. Feelin a lil bit more confident about the direction this is headed. Just hang in there w/ me, I had a thought about Hermione and this whole story is centered around one vision so idk I'm rambling now, but we're getting there.

As stated, McGonagall came early to collect me. We say absolutely nothing to each other. She grasped my arm and like that I was in a cozy space. I spun around to find mismatched furniture. Trying to combine the cools of the Slytherin common room with the warmth of Gryffindor didn’t… really work. I scrunched my face up and looked and the walls, covered in portraits of no one I knew, thankfully. Not even the founders. A huge fireplace sat on the right wall. The fire was nice, comforting. Odd armchairs were sat in a semi circle by the fire with three small tables. More furniture than either of us needed if Granger really wasn’t associating with anybody. I couldn’t imagine having any friends around to invite in. To the left of the cozy lounge space were three doors, the one on the left side of the wall sported a D in the center, the middle door blank, and the door to the right of the wall had an H. Subtle. 

“Miss Granger will be arriving after Dinner. Make yourself comfortable. I expect to see you at meals”

I nod and McGonagall disappears. 

I walk around our common room and test out each of the chairs. I stare at the fire for a while, then I head towards our common bathroom- upon entering I see a shower stall and to the left of it a huge emerald green clawed tub. Two sinks on each side of the door, two more doors flanking the bath and shower which hold toilets. 

I enter my room and sure enough, my clothes, uniform, books, everything not taken by the ministry was placed around the room as if I’d always lived here. Nothing about this room was interesting to me. I turned and faced her bedroom door through the hallway of a bathroom. She wasn’t here yet, I wonder what her room looked like.

I walked quickly across the bathroom and hesitantly touched the doorknob that would lead me to Granger’s bedroom. I open it before I can think twice and step in before letting out a breath. Her room was almost identical to mine. Scarlets and golds where Green and silver should be. Her things were also already here. I opened her drawers and found a sealed clear bag containing jewelry labeled St. Mungos. So granger was coming from a hospital was she? Is that why no one had seen her? She was locked away all this time? I quickly shut the drawer and exit the way I came. I shouldn’t have looked. I didn’t want that to be the answer as to where she might have been all these months. When I imagine her there I imagine what my mother looks like. Its unpleasant to think of swotty know it all granger a drooling, mindless shell. 

I stand in the bathroom for a while longer before heading back into granger’s room. I just wanted to see what books she had, so I would have something to talk to her about. Yeah, an in road for my “job”. She always liked books, and if I knew some of her collection we could talk about them. Yes, this is smart. This is practically what Potter and Weasley wanted me to do. Fix her. How can I fix her without knowing her? It’s a dumb question, I can’t. I walk back into her room and take a closer look at her things. Her books are stacked in built in bookcases against the wall. I only recognize advanced potion making and Hogwarts a history. The rest must be muggle. I turn and look on her bedside table. There is one beat up copy of a book called Wuthering Heights. If it’s already been placed on her bedside table that should mean its significant right? I pick it up and flip through it. I will need to buy a copy. Her name is written in the front. I’ve never had an opportunity to inspect her handwriting up close like this. There’s nothing out of the ordinary about how she writes her name, no flourish to it. It looks practical. It seems most things in her life currently are for practicality. 

I place the book down and look through her clothes again. Nothing fancy, the jewelry in the St. Mungos bag is probably the most interesting thing she owns. I pick it up and examine the jewelry inside of it without opening it. These earrings were probably muggle, small gold hoops. I don’t remember her wearing jewelry. Granted how could anyone see these through her giant mane of hair? It would have been impossible. I can’t fault myself for not noticing these tiny things. There was a cross in the bag too. From some kind of muggle religion, I’d read about it once. This too, I’d never ever seen Granger wear. I noticed her enough to know, I mean how could you not? She never shut the fuck up in classes. Always asking questions or answering them. She was front and center in every fucking class I ever had with her. The way she would smile up at professors when answering their questions correctly. Fucking kiss arse. I put the bag back in the drawer. 

I turn and am greeted with a pair of bright orange eyes. Granger’s beast had arrived and he sat on her dresser observing me. We stared at each other a while before I retreated out of her room, the furry orange thing staring me down the whole time until I shut her door. I had forgotten that Granger had a pet. I honestly thought the thing would’ve died of neglect or something when she was running all over Britain during the war, but here it sat, fat, and seemingly healthy as ever. I walk through the bathroom out into the common room and there it is again. The bloody cat is following me. I pace in front of the fire and he sits on the middle table, tail flicking as his head follows me like he’s watching a game of Quidditch. How does this cat of all things make me feel so nervous? It’s a cat! This is stupid!

“Don’t look at me” I say at the thing

The cat blinks up at me and licks his nose. Could he be intelligent enough to mock me? I feel like he’s mocking me. He’s just sitting there, swishing that ridiculous oversized tail.  
“You’re pretty swotty yourself aren’t you, thing” I sneer at him,

The cat doesn’t even bother looking at me this time, just licks his paw. Unbelievable. I’ve never had an animal of all things snub me before. Even that bloody chicken of a Hippogriff at least lashed out at me. It’s like her stupid cat has decided I’m not worth its time.

“We have to live together for this year so. We should at least try to be civil” I say as I look down at it. It hops off the table and walks back to Grangers room. Walks right through the closed door. He has magical entry into her room. Doesn’t even need to knock. Just goes straight through the fucking door the tosser. 

I’m expected at meals but I’d rather not go. I decide I will go down, make an appearance, knick some chicken to bring to the cat. Maybe if the thing liked me, Granger would be more receptive to “healing”. 

I walk quickly down to the Great Hall, ignoring everyone, looking at the floor. When I enter tables are no longer split up by house. Must be some kind of effort to avoid lingering sentiments from before the war. I feel eyes on me and look directly at Ginny Weasley. She raises an eyebrow and narrows her eyes at me, like a challenge. Would she be spying and sending information back to Potter about me? I should have known there would be things in place to monitor me. I’m not going to be threatened by a Weasley considering I’d just had a less than successful meeting with a kneazle of all things.

I accept her challenge, walk over and sit directly across from the Weaslette. 

“Malfoy” eyebrow still cocked, she flips her long offensively red hair over her shoulder

“You were staring so I assumed you wanted something Weaslette”

“Don’t try it Ferret, I know why you’re back here.”

“So I am being watched. Reporting back to Saint Potter are you? Thought they’d at least try to get an unbiased party. Sleeping with your informants just isn’t good business practice”

She smiled in a way that I could only take as a warning.

“Just remember your side lost Malfoy. You should try and be nice to those who struck such a generous deal for you.” With that, she resumed eating. 

She would serve as a witness to my being here. I started piling meats of various kinds onto a plate, Weasley watched. I was about to get up to leave before I remembered Granger was arriving after the feast. 

“Um…”

“Yes Ferret?” She looked at me suspiciously

“Would Granger have eaten? McGonagall said she was coming after the feast, should I take her something?” I wanted to die. I can’t believe I had to ask a Weasley for guidance. Merlin.

Weasley eyed me for a long time, chewing and thinking. She picked up an apple tart.

“She loves these, try and get her to at least eat this”

I took the tart, put it on the other side of the plate to the meats, nodded at Weasley and made my way back up to the heads dorm. Hopefully Granger hadn’t arrived yet and I could work on wooing her beast.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mention of self harm, its brief (like maybe not even a sentence? Also its implied) but still. Also, pretty much everyone but Draco right now is problematic, that's kind of the gag. I really only know how to write dysfunction so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Entering back through the portrait I immediately stiffened. She was here, and I was standing by the door with a plate of meat and one apple tart like an idiot. I looked around and didn’t see anything. I walked closer to the fire and there, as close to the fire as anyone could possibly get without sitting in it, sat a crumpled Granger. 

I make a noise to clear my throat, trying to ease my way into seeing her for the first time since… well everything. She doesn’t look at me. 

She’s sitting, arms around her legs, staring into the flames in a large white t-shirt. Her arm was out, just out in the open. She was looking into the fire and her arm was exposed, hugging her legs to her, and now I don’t know if she’s even heard me. Her hair has grown. Its almost the same as my aunts, only not the same inky black tendrils. Part of her hair is piled on top of her head, her wand sticking out of it and I’m walking closer to her even though I shouldn’t even be in the same room as her. 

I feel like im going to throw up as I put the plate down on the table her cat occupied earlier. Now I want the sod to come out and be here, act as a third party, keep things level. 

In the firelight her hair has some red in it. 

“Granger” I try again, she still doesn’t turn around. 

“Granger, Weasley sent me up with an apple tart. She said you like those” 

Her head turns extremely slowly at the mention of Ginny. Another girl my family fucked up. This is great. This is off to a great start. Maybe she’ll kill me.

She looks up at me and I almost crumble. Her face is gaunt, her eyes are so dark. This is worse than my mother. I step closer again, like approaching a wild animal. I still feel like she’s going to lash out at me. She hasn’t even reached for her wand. Why isn’t she reaching for her wand?

I pick the plate back up and move slowly, intending to place it, tart facing her, on the ground. 

“Granger, I’m going to put the plate on the floor ok? So you can have the… so you can have the tart?”

It shouldn’t sound like a question but I don’t recognize this woman. I don’t know what to do. I set the plate down and retreat to the closest armchair. She blinks at me twice, slowly, and looks down at the plate, strands of her hair falling over her face. I see her brow furrow, like she cant comprehend that we’re both in the same room. I knew this was a bad idea. I knew that mind healer was fucking cracked. Seeing me was going to break her to a point no one could fix. This was a terrible idea and they should have sent me to Azkaban. Fuck. I sit with my chin rested on my closed fist, watching her out of the corner of my eye. She’s staring at the plate like she’s confused.

“The meat is for your kneazle, I met him earlier… thought it might be…” I sigh deeply.   
“Thought he might like it” getting the words out was so much harder than it should be. At least upon my explanation her brows relax. 

She reaches for the apple tart and just holds it. Like she’s not safe to eat around me. I should leave, this is too personal, too close. 

“Okay, well. I’ll uh, leave you to it I guess” I mumble and head towards the bathroom. I need a shower. Something ice cold or hot as hell would be. Anything to get her eyes out of my head. Those dead eyes. I stand under the steam and shake. I’m going to have to write to Potter. 

I exit the bathroom and head to the desk in my room, and start to pen a letter,

Potter,

You failed to mention that the woman you sent in place of Granger isn’t Granger at all. How do you expect me to fix this? Have you SEEN her? I’m not qualified to fix this Potter and I don’t know who is. I bought her an apple tart on the suggestion of your current squeeze. She looks at me like she doesn’t recognize me and I’m meant to be the one to trigger some sort of response out of her? 

Looking for some sort of suggestion here because right now this looks like a task that is doomed to fail.

-D.M.

I basically throw the letter at my owl. I pace my room for a while thinking about next steps. They’ve put me in an impossible position. This was just an elongated trip to Azkaban. The trauma tour, they’re going to force me to deal with this so once I’m locked away to rot I won’t be able to think about anything else. They don’t know that she was already all I thought about. Ever since that night in the drawing room. I haven’t stopped thinking about her, wondering how she’s doing, wondering how she’s coping, wondering how that thing on her arm is healing. Is it killing her? I don’t know the properties of the knife my aunt used. Maybe the knife is the reason shes like this. Like a curse. Wouldn’t the healers have been able to figure out if it was a cursed wound though? Did she even ever get to see a healer for it? 

I have to go back out there. My feet aren’t going to let me. I don’t want her to look at me like that. I want anger or disgust or something. Not this. I force myself back into the common room and she’s gone. The plate sits on the floor, tart half eaten. That’s a start at least. As I stare at it her cat strolls over to the plate and picks at the meats. It seems he likes duck the best out of all things. He licks his chops and looks at me. 

“I’m going to try. She deserves someone to try.” The cat blinks back at me twice and walks back into Granger’s room. I leave the plate, knowing the elves will get it later. That’s another thing, shouldn’t she have ripped my head off? Didn’t she have a thing about house elf mistreatment or whatever the fuck?

I lay in bed and stare at the door that leads to the bathroom, knowing she’s on the other side. I knew things had been different for me after that night. I knew it was wrong as she screamed and cried and looked right at me. I could’ve pissed myself. It was so horrible. I had seen werewolves tear people apart, and seen people fed to that fucking snake, but seeing her on my floor, bleeding, crying, vomiting at one point from the pain, it was horrible. The worst thing. My deepest regret. She had to know that. At the very least I would make sure she knew it.

I wake in the middle of the night to the sound of vomiting. Heaving gasping noises coming from the bathroom, I walk in and find Granger hunched over her sink, knuckles white from holding on so tightly. 

“Shit, ok, hold on there’s a potion for this” Another gagging noise

“Come on Granger you barely ate anything, there can’t be anything left to throw-“She sinks to her knees, hands still clasped to the sink, head hung heavy, shaking. I see it. I see the word my aunt left on her and it’s inflamed. It looks green in the moonlight. I walk over to her, hook my arms under her armpits and hoist,

“Up you get come on” Im holding her awkwardly and she’s unresponsive. At least I can feel her breathing. 

“Can you stand for one second while I get an anti-nausea potion? Nod or shake your head. I need you to work with me right now” She shakes her head, slightly, if I hadn’t been watching her I would’ve missed it. I lower her back down to the floor and go to the cabinet shuffling through all the potions McGonagall had left and failed to explain. She knew I always had a knack for potions though. Must have thought I could think on my feet. I find the anti-nausea brew-a silky lavender colored potion- and pop the cork. Tilt Grangers head and pour it down her throat. Keep her head elevated so gravity can hopefully do its job and keep it down her throat. Her eyes are closed. Breathing more level than before. I let go of her and get a cloth to soak in some cold water and wipe her forehead. Too tender of an act for me to be doing with her. This should be Weasley, Potter, hell, even Longbottom over me. It’s a ridiculous sight, me hovering over her cooling her with a wet rag, her vomit still in the sink. 

I rest the cloth on her forehead, covering her eyes with it and work on vanishing her puke from her sink, from her shirt, from her hands. I work on prying her fingers off the sink. She lets me touch her which is another, completely ludicrous thing. I definitely shouldn’t be allowed to touch her. I’m prying the fingers of her left hand off the sink when the sleeve of her oversized t-shirt rides up the slightest amount. Runes. There are runes on her upper left arm. She must sense my distraction because she snatches her hand out of mine, tugs the cloth off her face, throws it at me and stumbles back into her room slamming the door. I stare at the spot she occupied and turn over this new information.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco and Ginny oh my. I'm all over the place.

I was woken up again by a screech. I didn’t realize I’d left my window open and an owl sat on the nightstand next to my bed, I reach out and snatch the letter from a claw and drop my head into my pillow, groaning. Too little sleep, too early for any form of correspondence. I sigh and roll over onto my back, I hold the letter up and know its from Potter.

Malfoy-

Three broomsticks 3pm

-HP

I guess im giving a progress report a lot sooner than I had anticipated. Hasn’t even been a week. I lazily get dressed and walk through to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Grangers door is open just enough to tell she is also up and getting dressed. I spit the toothpaste out and go sit on my new favourite armchair. She emerges, hair same as always, tendrilled, wand sticking out of half of her mane piled atop her head. She sports the largest black knitted sweater? Dress? I have ever seen. The sleeve of her right arm pushed up to her elbow, left sleeve left to dangle down to her hand. Ripped black stockings, clearly no effort for order anymore. Cant imagine Granger wearing ripped stockings ever before now. She had big chunky boots on too. All black. Well, at least it was neutral. She stills upon seeing me and I nod at her, stand and walk over to the entrance before looking back, cocking my brow as if to ask, “coming?” she nods and we walk in silence to the great hall.

Ginny Weasley appears out of nowhere and links her arm through Grangers. I stay at the doorway watching as they’re halfway to the table. Ginny turns and beckons me over, I hesitantly join them. Granger is nursing a green apple out of all things.

“I’m taking Mione today so you can do what ya need to” She piles raspberries on top of a bowl of porridge. Then a clump of brown sugar and mixes. It turns an ungodly color and texture.

“Okay…” I reply, transfixed by the horrid concoction she’s working on. I grab an apple of my own in solidarity with Granger and I swear she almost smiles at me. 

Arriving at the three broomsticks goes a lot better than I could have ever hoped. Potter is already there, so I don’t have to wait and deal with glaring or snide comments from onlookers, and thankfully he’s chosen a corner booth, even more secluded. 

“Drink?”

“Pardon?” I say, somewhat startled

“Do you want a drink?” Potter asks again, bored.

“uh, sure”

A butterbeer of all things floats to sit right in front of me. I will have to tell him next time I don’t have too much of a sweet tooth. Much prefer my alcohols burn me.

“Is she eating at least? I asked Gin to take her today so we could meet”

“She’s an adult Potter, does she really need all this supervision?” I ask,

“I’m not the one who wrote me a manic sounding letter about how un-Granger like she is now am I?”

I stare very pointedly at my drink. 

“You know Malfoy, she’s practically my sister, and after that day, that day at your house. She locked herself away for three days. She’s still never, ever, told me what happened up there. Never. I tried for months after, just so she wouldn’t have to carry it alone. But, she just… wouldn’t”

Still staring at the dissolving foam I wonder if he’s asking for me to tell him. Give him the memory. Trade notes. See if the cadence of her screams match up with the ones I hear in my head every day.

“Are you asking me to tell you” I brave a look up at him and feel incredibly small. He looks deep in thought.

“Nah. It has to come from Mione” he settled.

“But you’ve seen it haven’t you?” I probe

“Seen what?”

Is it possible he doesn’t know? Could she really have been so dumb not to get it looked at by a healer? Had she really just hidden it from them all? For all this time?

“Her… the scar, you’ve seen the scar haven’t you?”

He was looking at me in extreme confusion and I was panicking. 

“The scar Potter, the scar my batshit crazy aunt left on her arm, that disgusting horrible scar on her left arm? She showed you what happened didn’t she?” My voice was getting louder and Potter was looking alarmed.

“Oh Merlin. She’s never showed you.” I land at my conclusion and almost throw up all over the table. I couldn’t be the only one left around her that knew about her bloody arm. This couldn’t be true.

Potter’s brows were furrowed. His eyes darting around the table like he was connecting strings. I put my head in my hands.

“Bellatrix… cursed her? Or something?” he asked. I didn’t answer.

“Malfoy I’m asking you to tell me”

I take a long swig from my drink. Maybe if I demonstrate what was left on me he’d comprehend better. She’d cut me plenty of times. Just a lot smaller. With a different knife. I start unbuttoning my shirt and point to the lines on my pectorals

“My aunt… had a proclivity for knives. For playing with people”

He almost jerked back seeing the methodical nature of the lines on my chest

“She cut Mione?”

I nod and feel the blood drain from my face. 

“She left a slur, on her left arm. I think… I think maybe the blade or something might have been cursed, or the wound is cursed and that’s why Granger has devolved into this… this state. I saw it last night and it at the very least looks infected. I never thought she’d be daft enough not to have it looked at.”

“She showed you?”

“That’s seriously your take away from this? Granger is fucked and your what? Jealous I saw it and you didn’t?” 

“I never said it was rational”

“What am I meant to do Potter? I don’t, I don’t know… I don’t know all the things Bellatrix had access to, I don’t. I don’t know how to fix Granger.”

“Well, the mind healer seems to think you offer a warped sense of security. Like Mione will be able to let her guard down because you know everything that happened. I suppose, in a weird way, you being able to see it, is a good step.”

“How do you figure that?”

“She’s not carrying it by herself anymore. Now that you’re around. Its someone else that knows” He shrugs, as if this is the simplest equation in the world. 

I buy us another round and we sit in silence for a good long while.

“Ya know, I always reckoned you had a thing for her.”

I almost choke on my drink

“Come again?”

Potter looks wistfully off past my head at the grain of the wood.

“Yeah, I always kinda thought… It didn’t make sense. You singled her out. There were a ton of other muggleborns and you singled her out on day one. Just kinda always figured you being a prick was because you didn’t know how to operate around a girl like Mione”

“Got any other theories you’d care to share?” I prompt. Am I really so transparent? Is that what it was all those years. A crush? My competition to get better marks. Always harping on her hair? Could it be chalked up to something as simple as a crush? No. It couldn’t possibly.

“Potter?”

“Mmm?” he answers. This weird peace we’ve found is vulnerable and uncomfortable for me.

“Im sorry. For… choosing the side I chose”

“You think you chose?” Potter asks. Somehow im even more confused now then I was since he came and saw me at the ministry.

“Mione and I, we use to talk about it, all the time. Ron was gone and she used to dissect you. Your motives, your upbringing. How much of the blood purity shit was yours and how much was influenced by your environment. I think she landed on feeling like if you’d been left to form your own opinions you’d’ve wound up on our side”

“Where did you land?” I ask him, trying to gage how the savior of the wizarding world saw me.

“Eh, I’m here with you now aren’t I?”

“I suppose that’s as good as any answer you could’ve given”

We get up to part ways and as we exit the three broomsticks Potter turns and almost smiles at me

“If my theory about you and your motives is correct, Mione’s gonna be fine, and you and I will be seeing a lot more of each other. G’night Malfoy” He disapparates before I could get a word in.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda hate this. I'll figure out how to turn it around just bare with me.

I push open the portrait and walk into the heads common room. Two steps into the room and I see her, sitting back by the fire again, in a bra and shorts. Feet bare and touching each other, making her legs into a diamond shape. She is carving runes into her upper arm with her wand. Wordless blood magic. She has books sprawled around her and she’s carving runes into her upper arm. Hair bundled up on her head. She’s not even crying. She must be opening the scars I saw last night to re-activate some sort of… charm?

I almost run over to her and stop right in front of her. She doesn’t look at me, just continues the lines of runes. Blood running down her arm. Her scar doesn’t look infected anymore. The books she has by her side look like dark magic. Filled with old rituals and counter curses, sex magic, blood magic, things she definitely didn’t find in the Hogwarts library.

“Granger what the fuck”

She doesn’t stop what she’s doing and I’m nervous to touch her in case I make her fuck up her sequence and hurt her more than she’s already doing.

‘GRANGER!”

She pauses and looks up at me. Blood on her chest from twisting her arm to get the other side.

“You can’t do this Granger. What even is this! Explain this to me, let me help you. Fuck.”

With her wand hand she points to one of the open books, the margins are crammed with notes overlapping the text its almost impossible to read. All I can make out is that this is some sort of counter measure for a blood curse. My theory about my aunt’s knife was correct then. 

“There has to be another way, let me help you-“ She huffs at me, blowing one tendril off of her face. 

She tries to get up but she stumbles. I grab her waist, her blood gets on my shirt, I don’t miss the irony, I doubt she does either. 

“Stop struggling! let me help you, come on”

I move us to the bathroom and sit her in the shower stall, I rummage around under the sink to find essence of dittany. Her head is lulling to one side against the shower wall.

“How often are you doing this? You.. what you just let yourself pass out and hope for the best? Fucking merlin Granger”

A gurgling sound comes out of her throat. She’s trying to correct me but her voice is hoarse, like there’s glue around her vocal box. 

“hush.” I give her a harsh look and she doesn’t try again, just sighs. After applying the dittany I clean the excess blood, reminding myself this is the second bodily fluid I’ve cleaned off of her in twenty four hours, and wrap a bandage around her arm. I go back to the cupboard and look for blood replenishing potion, I find a vial. 

“Drink” I unstop the vial and hold it out for her

She reaches for the vial with her wand arm and immediately puts it to her lips.

“You know Granger I’m literally not allowed to let you die. Potter and Weasley have made it my mission. Its either you recover or I face Azkaban for the rest of my life, so how about we work to find a different solution for this than carving yourself in the common room like a fucking Christmas ham yeah?”

She taps the space of tile next to her, and I go and sink onto the floor. She’s small like this. She rests her head on my arm, too short to reach my shoulder even while sitting.

“Potter also said you have theories about my beliefs, my upbringing. Said you two would analyze me”   
She nods. That’s brave. I’d never admit to that.

“For what its worth, I think about it everyday. Even without the threat of Azkaban, I think I probably would’ve at least… I dunno, tried. To help you. Its weird, what you and the whole not talking thing. There isn’t much to say though, I get it. Now im just rambling. Sorry this is just-“ she pats my knee with her wand arm and summons her copy of Wuthering Heights. She hands it to me, shaking it a little bit.

“You want me to read this?”

She shakes her head, shakes the book again.

“You want me to read this out loud to you? Like a child?” She stares at me pointedly.

“Fine, give it here” She nestles into my arm, sinking in for a story she definitely already knows by heart and I start to read.

My voice is hoarse, and I have no idea how long I’ve been reading. Granger’s head transitioned to my lap as I stretched my legs out. I was almost certain she was asleep but I kept reading anyway. Weird book to choose in my opinion. Her beast of a cat entered a while ago and sat on my right. I hold the book out in one hand and slowly, gently, tuck Granger’s hair behind her ear. Low and behold she was asleep. 

Her body was totally relaxed. Her face completely at peace. I wonder if this is what trust is. To sleep soundly on someone like me, someone who could kill her. My hand is stroking her hair and I twirl one of the tendrils around my finger. This is the first time in my whole life things have been still enough for me to examine things. Mostly what Potter said. Did I have feelings for her?

I look down at her face, her breathing is even. Maybe this is the first good sleep she’s had in a while. In a shower stall out of all things. I count her ribs. Her hipbones jut out, her spine is visible. I check in with myself and all I feel is despair. This tiny fragile thing, how could I fix what’s already been done. 

I allow my knuckles to run along her jawline. Perfect skin. She stirs, 

“Hey, Granger, you cant spend the night in the shower, lets get you to bed, come on” She barely opens her eyes and I pull her up with one arm, book in the other hand. I support her and waddle into her bedroom, hit with the scent of her shampoo. Everything smells like honey. I put the book face down on her bedside table and nudge her onto her bed. She’s sprawled out, one leg and her good arm hanging off the bed, her other half fully supported. I feel confident enough to leave her like this. Exhausted, hopefully in for a night of dreamless sleep. I check her bandaged arm once, quickly, before exiting. So far, I’m pretty pleased about my mission with Hermione Granger.  
Subsequently I cannot know peace, because as I’m awoken in the middle of the night by banging on my door, from the bathroom? I trip out of bed, rubbing my eyes I open the door, Granger stands there looking wild. Face red, tears running down her face, sweat beading on her forehead.

“Hermione?”

She’s shaking, eyes darting everywhere. I do the only thing I can think of and pull her flush against me. 

“I thought you’d actually make it through the night this time Granger”

Still shaking I back us up into my room. 

“We have classes tomorrow we have to try and get some sleep. Do you want to stay here?”

I feel her nod, slightly. I let her go, climb into bed and she cautiously follows me. She rests her head on the middle of my arm again and completely knocks out. Unbelievable. I try and adjust around her and end up draping one of my arms over her ribs. Her head moves to rest on my shoulder. We fall asleep like this.


End file.
